


Monsters, or Humans...?

by QueenAshe (queenofdespair)



Series: Naruto: Mitei no kuronikuru [Lit. "Naruto: Untold Chronicles" - One Shot Stories] [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Backstory, Blood Kink, Character Development, Character Study, Cute, Developing Friendships, F/M, Feels, Flashbacks, For the first part at least, I still don't know how to tag HELP, Ninja, No redemption, One Shot, POV Female Character, POV Original Character, Part I - Gaara, Pre-Shippuden, Pre-Time Skip, Sunagakure | Hidden Sand Village, To be honest, Violent Thoughts, a thing nobody asked for, and Gaara's hatred of people, complicated by shukaku, did you think it'd be that easy?, evil/dark gaara is here to stay, except it's mutual, friendships with a bit of crush, he just gets worse and darker, kindaish, suna world building, think again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2020-09-27 08:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20405050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofdespair/pseuds/QueenAshe
Summary: "No." Gaara finally said. It caught Sumiko off-guard with how harsh it sounded.The boy shook his head. "I've fought and killed stupid. You aren't that. Not by a long shot."----Gaara is forced to think critically about Sumiko. He doesn't like it.Neither does Sumiko, who's doing the same.Alternatively:A heart-to-heart between a sociopath and a morally ambigious/questionable kid.





	1. Monsters....?

To say Gaara was a monster would be the understatement of the century,_ even if he was._

He wasn't a monster in the way that made Sumiko want to fear or hate him.

But in the way that watching him was interesting; like a horrible freak accident one couldn't look away from, no matter how grisly it got.

In short, Gaara was intriguing to her.

Was it his strength?

His monstrous, almost suffocating,_ cold_ chakra that commanded fear and attention?

His great self-control (which he was still dealing with) over the demon spirit that she come to know as _Shukaku_?

Maybe all of these, or none of these answers.

However, if Sumiko had to pick a favorite trait from Gaara, her new semi-_ally_ \-- he didn't believe in the word "friend"-- it would definitely be his face. 

No, not _that_ way.

But in the way that Gaara's face was expressive even if he as a whole, _wasn't_.

When he was annoyed, a vein would pop up on the side of his head. If he was angry, his eyes would tighten. If he was frustrated, they'd furrow. When he was stoic, it'd be at rest for the most part, if he wasn't already scowling. Genuine smiles were non-existent, but he did smirk occasionally, which were another language on their own. His eyes would dilate and an almost cheshire-like grin would overtake his face if he was enjoying himself. Sometimes this was accompanied by heavy breathing, or deranged laughter, which told Sumiko he didn't know how to laugh properly because that's the _only _time he'd even make such a noise.

The boy didn't even _chuckle_ unless it was a sign of him losing what little sanity he had left, or related to his near unquenchable blood-lust.

Gaara was a monster in all forms of the word.

Nobody would blame her if she grew to be scared of him like the villagers, like everyone else.

But that's the thing; she wasn't.

For some reason, she didn't fear him. Not at the Chuunin Exams where she witnessed him brutalize and torture Rock Lee when he couldn't fight back anymore. (For his own sick satisfaction, no less.)

Not when he faced Sasuke Uchiha at the Finals, where he was _even further _visibly deranged and feral. (His Lightning Release was the only thing that saved his ass, and barely at _that.)_

And especially, not when she witnessed him as full-on Shukaku in Konoha's forest, about to kill a weakened Naruto Uzumaki, a toad, and some pink-haired girl she couldn't be bothered to remember the name of.

She wasn't scared then, because like a reckless idiot, _she rushed in to save him. _

Him_. _

_Gaara._

The boy who can kill without moving, the boy with _living sand. _

_Him. _

Sumiko prided herself on having a hard heart, and a logical mind-- occasional streaks of rebellion and recklessness be damned-- but no matter how she sliced it, no matter how much she brainstormed, what hypothesis she could conjure up, nothing made sense. She _shouldn't_ have saved him, she had no incentive to... What was in it for her? What benefit did she get from freeing him...?

Who the hell was she to come in like a metaphorical samurai in reinforced armor, charging with a sword in hand?

She didn't even _know _him.

She didn't fucking know him at all, only that he was a vessel of the Sand Demon.

The same one that rampaged through Suna so many years ago.

The same one that killed her maternal _grandfather_.

Nothing made sense.

She shouldn't have saved him, much less try to 'befriend' such a monster. Or find him interesting.

Yet, here she was, back in Suna, doing that _very_ thing.

_Thinking about him. _

It was concerning, to say the least, but she couldn't change the past.

What's done is done...

_\-----_

"A living person doesn't belong in a mass graveyard unless they plan on dying.... Senju."

She barely registered his chakra. The kunoichi sighed, and rose from her kneeled position. She patted the dirt from her knee-high boots. "I thought you went home...."

"I did." The boy had his arms folded against his chest. Like always, he was largely unscathed,_ clean_. The only thing that gave away that he was in a prior battle were his knuckles, which were ever so lightly covered in sand. His seafoam green eyes gazed upon the marked tombstone. They were detached, and distant, yet semi-present.

_Crunch, crunch. _

The only sound was that of Gaara's sandals on cold concrete and uneven sandy terrain until he reached the girl's side. "...Until I remembered you left something at the Mission Center. I went back for it. But then realized I don't know where you live, either..."

"Ah..!" She scratched the side of her neck and flushed out of embarrassment. "Shit...! I forgot you didn't... You probably looked for me all day. Sorry...!"

"......" He ignored her apology. Gaara extended an arm, and opened his hand, dropping the item into her palm. It was Sumiko's headband protector. Her eyes widened; she forgot that she removed it when they got back to Suna after killing Kimimaro. The half Senju tied it back around her neck, and fluffed out her curly, brown ponytail. He watched her for a moment, finding the motion oddly satisfying to see... He looked away from her before his thoughts could branch off into tangents. His eyes narrowed at the tombstone. "Is this your grandfather....?" He knew because she bluntly told him on the way to Konoha;

_ "Shukaku crushed him underfoot."_

Before either he or Sumiko were born.

As told to her by her mother Yumiko;

_"Tarou Senju was a bloody stain on the street for five nights, and five days. It took the cleaning team a long while to get all of him out."_

"Yeah. He was a high-level Chuunin."

Gaara said nothing at first again. Sumiko's voice denoted that she didn't really care about him. Then it clicked. "You didn't know him." It didn't sound like a question (nothing he said ever did, but she'd learn to concern which ones were which by looking at Gaara's face.) His eyes furrowed at her in curiosity.

"Not really." She answered casually. The boy didn't miss the way that her lips formed a straight line. "It happened way before I was even a thought."

"Then why mourn someone you don't know? Why come here?"

\-----

He caught the way that her face scrunched up. She opened her mouth and then closed it.

"...I don't know." She finally decided with a shrug. "Maybe I'm stupid." She offered as a joke. She awkwardly smacked her hands together, and kicked at the ground, watching how easily a small cloud was created.

Gaara searched his head for an appropriate response. As he looked at her, he also noticed how _worn _and exhausted she looked; the bandages around her wrists to her forearms were covered in dirt and debris; some of them even torn, revealing bruised, swelling brown skin underneath. Coiled bangs stuck to her head by way of sweat and dried blood. The shadows of her face seemed were darkened by the downcast position of her head, which kept him from seeing her face in its entirety. Despite this, the sun's dying orange and red rays made her seem brighter; in comparison to himself, he thought...

He was the palest of the Sand Siblings.

The Sun didn't dare touch him.

But it hugged Sumiko in a way that made it seem like she was a child of that burning star from the heavens, instead of the child of two earthly parents.

Gaara wasn't sure where the_ hell_ that comparison came from, nor what to make of it, but it fit.

Even if it confounded him.

But that was the thing; strange thoughts like that entered his mind the more he hung around this girl.

During the fight with Kimimaro, he found himself even slightly concerned when it seemed like she was in danger.

Which, of course, she _was, _but it was Sumiko, and she fucking _handled_ it. (_Wonderfully_, he might add, but he'd keep that to himself.)

"....." One of his fingers twitched, almost unnaturally.

Suna-nin were taught to hold their own weight, even in teams, to avoid unbalance...

_To weed out those with weak wills._

Sunagakure was a very individualist Shinobi Nation.

So why in the ever loving_ fuck_ did he get that urge to protect her?

Another finger twitched unnaturally.

What jutsu was she using on him?

What kind of power did she hold?

Because he sure as hell didn't know.

_Whatever this was._

\---

_"No."_ Gaara finally said. It caught Sumiko off-guard with how harsh it sounded.

"No...?"

The boy shook his head. "I've fought and killed stupid. You aren't that. Not by a long shot."

She blinked a couple of times, and looked at him again, taking in what he just said. _'Did... did he just call me smart...?'_ She was unsure of what to make of that; Gaara rarely gave out compliments, even to people he fought. "I see... thanks, then. Glad to know you don't think I am, heh." She even threw in a light chuckle. She tucked a coiled strand behind her ear, which reminded the red-haired boy that she had a black dot under her left eye.

No wait, that's called a beauty mark.

She had a "beauty mark".

(He wasn't sure why that was called what it was, either, but if he stared too long, he could get a gist of why.)

Sumiko rolled her neck around, and touched the network of bandages on her shoulder that connected to her forearm and parts of her torso. She was able to stop the bleeding long enough for more experienced medics to patch her up, but the pain still remained. She'd have a scar on her shoulder forever, a reminder that one of Kimimaro's bones nearly pierced her cleaned through. Of course, her parents were worried, her mom mostly.

She got yelled at and reprimanded.

Too bad it wouldn't deter Sumiko because damn it, she was her _mother's daughter, _and she'd only get herself into more trouble as she grew. (Yes, it was a Senju thing. The only thing keeping her from being a complete rebel was the other half that was_ Sanada;_ though it was this side of the family that lended Sumiko her bluntness.)

"Does it still hurt?"

She squeezed her shoulder and winced slightly. "A little..."

Gaara's eyes narrowed slightly at it. "...." He didn't know what to say, and what he _did_ want to say bordered on him sounding like he actually gave a shit about her, so he kept that to himself. Instead, he directed his gaze towards the tombstone again. His shoulders, the shoulders that Gaara were growing _into, _slightly tensed. He was still thinking about her injury...

It was partially his fault, because he was too caught up in his bloodlust; it clouded his judgement.

It was also partially her fault because it was self-inflicted.

Never had Gaara seen anyone take a kunai, much less an entire_ bone_ for him. She didn't need to; she _knew_ that but she was insistent, so much so that had she been a second late, it would be _more_ than a measly shoulder injury.

He would have survived either way because Mother (his living sand) wouldn't have let him die.

He would have survived either way because he was _Gaara of the Desert_.

He would have survived either way because he was the_ Suna no Noroi_; the Curse of the Sand.

He was largely unkillable, and he _fucking knew it. _

No wonder he was such a closet sadomasochist under his sociopathy. (Not that anyone would live long enough to figure that out. _Maybe_ Sumiko. _Maybe_.)

She _knew_ what his sand could do. She _knew_ what he was capable of; she's seen him at his absolute worst; she's _seen_ all of his ugly, all of his bloodlust and unrighteous glory.

Wasn't she the one who said ninja were nothing but tools of mass destruction and death?

Didn't she think of everyone that way? Including herself?

Including _him_?

So why...?

Why did she...?

_Again,_ he thought. He was thinking about her again. _Why....? __What does this mean....? _

He set his jaw, and stared. At that point, he wasn't staring at the tombstone anymore. He was staring past it, into nothing.

Into black.

Into the night.

Into his unsure future...

Unsure, because he thinks that having Sumiko around has changed it, somehow.

Unsure, because he doesn't know_ why_ she's in his head.

Unsure, because_ for once_, he didn't have control of the situation and it was driving him insane; more than he already is.

Unsure, because Gaara of the Desert_ doesn't know what to do with himself_.

\----

Those soulless eyes of his were detached, and distant, almost not present.

Actually, they _weren't_ present at all.

He didn't blink. Sumiko could have sworn that the bags under Gaara's eyes seemed heavier, darker-- almost sinister, even.

She almost didn't hear a low growling noise come from his gourd.

Almost.

But she _did_.

His hands were twitching erratically.

His face was stuck in a semi-stoic, semi-unreadable expression, so she couldn't read him at all.

And once again, she remembered just who he was.

The boy who can kill without moving, the boy with _living sand. _

_He was Gaara of the Desert. _

A living weapon.

A monster.

The monster that _she saved.. _

\---

To be continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets heavier/spicy in the second part. 
> 
> As in content, so I might have to up the rating to Mature or Explicit. We'll see.
> 
> \---  
Side note: 
> 
> For some reason, the first part of this made me emotional and almost cry while writing it???? Unlike Suna no Noroi, this one came strictly from my head and a general idea rather a burst of inspiration and lack of sleep. I wanted to go for why Sumiko wants to get close to Gaara/what she really thinks of him. Her mindset, too, because she's complex. 
> 
> In turn, I also wanted to get into Gaara's mindset and how he thinks about this "Senju girl", who basically came out of nowhere and popped up into his solitude life. I like to think he absolutely believes she's fucking crazy (and maybe she is) but since she's the first one to show virtually no fear to him at all, he has no choice to accept the situation for what it is, which will make for an interesting dynamic. 
> 
> And oh, will it be interesting.


	2. Humans...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaara finally understands why he can't hate her.

_"It's okay, Gaara. You don't have to be alone anymore. It's okay, it's okay. You don't... because I'm here."_

_**It was a damn lie.** _

As far as he was concerned, that's all humans were; really talented _liars_.

The truth only came out when they were pushed and shoved into corners.

When they got what they wanted.

When the pawns they used outlived their purposes.

When their backs were against the wall.

When they were tortured.

When they were killed.

When they were hateful.

When they were in fear of something they didn't understand.

When they didn't _want _to understand.

Thus, Gaara came to see people as nothing more than "things".

_Playthings_, to be exact.

_Toys to use._

Toys to fuck over for his own amusement.

Toys to break, just because he _could_.

Toys to discard when he got bored.

To be a human meant to be a "thing"; a vehicle of flesh and bone mixed with muscles, cells and organs. Some of them had extraordinary powers; others not so much. The end result was the same-- being a "gifted" thing was no different from being a "non-gifted" thing.

Terms like "family", and "friends" meant nothing to him.

Bonds were nothing.

Everyone equaled nothing.

Every_thing equaled nothing. _

_Gaara hated everyone equally. _

So, why _her?_

_What the hell makes her so special?_

It should be easy; she was a human. He hated humans for just _existing_.

Gaara even hated _Shukaku. _

_So, why? _

_Why was she the only one he couldn't completely hate...? _

_Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, _he thought._  
_

* * *

A raging wind howled within the subconscious of the Vessel's mind.

There Gaara was, up to his knees in heavy sand which seemed alive; as if it wanted him to _sinksinksinksinksinksink._

Arid air choked him.

He couldn't breathe.

He didn't want to.

Even as every part of him screamed for him to get himself out, Gaara didn't move.

_Livelivelivelivelivelivelive._

But all he wanted to do was just die.

_Livelivelivelivelivelivelivelive, _the wind whispered.

He was so stubborn.

So, so, so, so, stubborn.

_pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease_, the sand pleaded. _Save yourself pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease._

"......."

The sand was up to his waist, and rapidly, almost _angrily _rose to his torso.

The sun still didn't dare touch him. It was afraid. It _hated_ him. Just like everyone else did.

_Not her_, the sand said.

_Nothernothernothernothernother, _the wind echoed.

His eyes tightened, and a vein popped up on the side of his head.

**_No._ **

This was _his_ head. This was _his_ mindscape. This was the last place where Gaara could be alone in peace; he didn't need some girl he barely knew taking up parts of it.

So then it changed.

The cloudless, burnt orange sky darkened into a rust-like color. Splotches of brown stained it further until it was a pitch black. The sea of sand shifted colors as well, stopping at a red-black shade that looked a lot like blood. The grains were no longer grains, and took on the quality of liquid; truly becoming an ocean of blood. The wind picked up, and howled even louder:

_Liveforyourselfforyourselfforyourselfforyourself._

In the sea of blood, bubbles came to the surface.

Then heads.

_Fightforyourselfforyourselfforyourselfforyourself._

_The heads of humans. _

Humans he's killed; grown adult women on missions, men, fellow kids his age who were nothing more than lambs to the slaughter. Sometimes they were even younger than him. Gaara didn't remember any of them personally, which was indicated by the one feature they all shared; no faces.

They were all blank.

He knew he killed them.

He enjoyed it, too.

After all, killing was the only thing that made him feel alive.

_Killforyourselfforyourselfyourselfyourself._

* * *

Gaara fell to his knees.

"Shit-!" Sumiko panicked.

She rushed around her grandfather's tombstone and kneeled in front of the boy. She put both of her hands on his shoulders, and looked directly at his face; it was another expression--- one she saw before, when he was on top of Shukaku's head in that forest.

The one that made her throw caution to the wind.

The one that made her want to save him.

His face was contorted; his teeth and jaw clenched, and his hands -- which stopped twitching ten minutes ago--- clutched at his hair. His eyes were wide and his pupils were dilated. She could even see the blood vessels. "Nnngh....!" Gaara's shoulders shook and his body trembled. 

Pain.

He was in pain.

He was _hurting. _

_He was hurting, he was hurting, he was hurting._

The full blunt of Gaara's (?), Shukaku's (?) chakra hit her, made her shiver. It invaded the pores of her skin violently, and it was so cold to the point where her teeth were chattering--she could see her own breath in the air! _'Is this his own or Shukaku's....?' _Shivers racked her body._ 'No time to think about it... I have to do something!'_

Sumiko ignored it and powered through; drawing more of her own chakra out, allowing the familiar warmth to seep out of her pores. It started from her feet, spread to her legs, settled in her stomach, shot down through her arms, and fingers, and covered her head, neck and shoulders. She still felt his chakra gnaw on hers; try to gain entrance, but she didn't let it. She didn't stop there. She squeezed her eyes shut, and strained herself; feeling a drop of sweat streak down her brow, and dangle off the small cut on her lip she sustained from one of Kimimaro's 'finger bullets', as she called them.

_'I don't know if this is going to do anything, but ... here goes..! This better reach you or I'll kick your ass when you feel better, damn it....!'_

Her chakra grew hotter; and covered her in a second and third layer, before she commanded it to spread to Gaara's shoulders and his own body.

* * *

_"It's okay, Gaara. You don't have to be alone anymore. It's okay, it's okay. You don't... because I'm here..."_

_He woke up to his face being wet. Gaara stirred, and blinked slowly, painfully. _

_His head hurt. _

_The last thing he remembered was being in the middle of casting his Sleep Possum Jutsu, someone yelling his name fearlessly, and slashing him out of Shukaku's head. _

_"...rain....?" He muttered at first, thinking that the weather had changed because the drops were still hitting his face. _

_No, not rain._

_Tears. _

_Who was crying...? _

_His eyes widened as his blurred vision finally came into focus. It was that super-strong girl from the Chuunin Exams... _

_The one who was from the same village as him._

_A tear drop hit the corner of his agape mouth. He didn't notice it fall in, or the salty taste it left on his tastebuds. _

_"What the hell are you doing....?" He found himself asking. It came off as rough-sounding, disgusted. He sat up, and tried to pry her off, but it only made her hold onto him tighter. "Ngh...! Let go...! Get off..!" _

_She wasn't listening. All she kept repeating was:_

_"It's okay. You don't have to be alone anymore." _

_The next thing he felt was a hand at the back of his head, and an arm around his shoulders, which pushed him into her. "...!" _

_The boy tensed up, and he gritted his teeth. Now that he was in her arms, he noticed exactly how **strong **she was. Her slightly toned muscles kept him in place. Her firm grip on his shoulder and head reinforced the fact that he was going nowhere. Yet... she wasn't completely hard. Her hands were soft, and so was her shoulder. He trembled, and for some reason, he felt helpless._

_Helpless and broken. _

_"Get... get off.." he uttered, his voice cracking. "Let go.."_

_She still wasn't listening. _

_His bottom lip quivered and he made a strange noise he didn't recognize. _

_Then he screamed. _

_He crumbled, and screamed. _

_He gave up, and buried his head into her neck, and clutched the back of her jacket with a shaky hand in an awkward, desperate, one-armed hug and screamed again. _

_And then he cried. _

* * *

"What is this....?" 

Gaara blinked, and brought a hand to the side of his head.

It hurt.

"Why did I remember that just now....?"

The faces of his past victims receded back into the bloody ocean. The red liquid shifted once more, and took the element of earth; of slippery solid. It was a dust-yellow color.

The color of sand.

The wind calmed down into a small whisper.

_livelivelivelivelivelivelive, _it said.

There was a tear on Gaara's face. Two, three, four. 

"Why....?"

_saveyourselffromyourselffromyourselfyourselfyourself. _

_livefortheonewhogaveyoulifeagain_

_fightfortheonewhogaveyoulifeagain_

_killfortheonewhogaveyoulifeagain_

_forher_

_forher_

_forher_

_herherherherherher._

_cherish your existence _

_and the one that understands you_

_her_

_her_

_herherherherherher_

The sand formed tendrils-- three of them-- which then turned into hands. One held Gaara's hand. Another wiped the tear from his face. The other tilted his head upwards to look at the sky.

There was a head hanging over him; one with a face. Her skin was as smooth and dark as the Sand Berries he used to eat as a kid. They were dark brown in color, soft, and squishy. Fun to crush in his tiny, tiny hands. Her eyes were warm, and semi-angled. A fire danced behind them, almost as warm as he felt currently. Her nose was broad and her lips were at rest; slightly partly as if she was going to say something. The top half of her face was obscured by coiled bangs, while the rest of her hair was held back in a ponytail. (Apparently, Gaara's head was very detailed, as the mindscape remembered her beauty mark too.)

The sand let him go, let him _stare._

He frowned.

He still didn't know why she was in his head.

He didn't know what Mother was trying to tell him.

He didn't _get_ it.

After all these years of extreme self-love and preservation, he was supposed to apply his _nindo_ to this person?

Only her?

_yesyesyesyes_, the wind whispered in his ear.

_livefortheonewhogaveyoulifeagain_

_fightfortheonewhogaveyoulifeagain_

_fightfortheonewhogaveyoulifeagain_

_killfortheonewhogaveyoulifeagain_

* * *

_Gaara overexerted himself. _

_He was tired, so, so, tired.  
_

_But since he was used to no sleep, it was a moot point. _

_"I'm sorry." _

_The girl besides him stopped. "W-what..?"_

_"I almost compromised the mission. I'm... sorry."_

_Sumiko's eyes widened._

_The boy's face looked worn down, and tired; his eyes were half-way closed. His Sand Armor long healed his face, but the chakra he lost in the battle rendered him weak. Which was why Sumiko currently had one arm around his shoulder, and the other around his torso. She blinked at him in surprise. _

_He didn't seem like the type to apologize... _

_She blushed and shook her head.  
_

_"No... it's fine. Don't worry your pretty little head. Besides... it's part of my journey." _

_His face weakly scrunched up together in curiosity. "Journey....?"_

_Her face lit up, as a grin split it apart. Gaara might as well had been looking at the Sun because it was so bright and radiant and **warm. **_

_"....To be the strongest woman in the world!" _

_He blinked. _

_And he stared. _

_'She did that... to further her own goals? To be strong...?' _

_"I don't get it... You'd be stronger if you only fought for yourself..." _

_"Oh, but I do already!" _

_This only shocked and confused him further. Sumiko noted the look on his face so she explained. _

_"Long story short, I don't have any friends. I don't have anything to hold me back. My family is cool and all, but I don't want to be stuck in their shadow. So... to make a name for myself, to stand out and be me... I decided that I will be the strongest woman in the world. The strongest alive...! The strongest to ever walk the Earth!!" She looked back at Gaara, with those eyes of hers, angled, losing their roundness, losing her childishness. _

_It was the second most serious he's seen her._

_"To fight for one's self is the best way to gain strength. So I'm alone for the most part. I trained with my parents when I was younger, but they don't have anything left to teach me, so I'm self-taught at this point. But... if I meet someone who's like-minded, I'm sure that'd be okay...! In that case, we both would be strong, maybe at a faster pace together! Don't you think so?" _

_He looked at her. _

_He looked, and he looked, and he **stared**, trying to wrap his head around her nindo. _

_Then he blinked. _

_And he understood._

_"I...see.. yes..." He said slowly, and grunted. He pulled himself off of her. _

_She _ _was about to grab him again, but Gaara stopped her with a headshake. _

_"I like your nindo. You shouldn't anyone get in the way of it..." _

_What Gaara didn't say was 'including me'. _

_With that, he shouldered through the pain, through the exhaustion he felt, and walked. "I'll be fine."_

_Again, Sumiko blushed and walked besides him. "I like your nindo too! It makes sense." _

_For the first time, a light red dusted the boy's cheeks. "............"_

_He didn't say anything else for the duration of the walk to the Mission Center. _

_"Oh.. and by the way... it's actually not nindo, but Bushido."_

* * *

Somehow that memory was suppressed.

Or maybe misplaced?

Either way, Gaara remembered the end of their conversation.

He remembered the warmth in his face when she told him that she practically understood him.

_She understood him._

That's what made her stand out.

She _understood him. _

_Who he was. _

_Who he is. _

He was more than Gaara of the Desert to her.

He wasn't even _Suna no Noroi_ to her.

He was just a boy. (A "boy", not a thing, but definitely a monster.)

Gaara wouldn't know; _couldn't know._

After all, he spent most of his life subconsciously shutting out anything that might have indicated he had a humanity in the first place.

Someone like him couldn't be fixed. He didn't think he needed to be; his antisocial mind told him he was fine. (Other people who were _weak_, were the problem).

However, what he could do, is maybe accept the situation for what it was, (if he chose to).

And the truth was this:

He liked her.

As a _human_; a super-skilled, super-strong "thing" with two legs and two arms that could definitely restrain and break him if he ever tried to attack her, sand be damned. (She's already proven herself faster than Mother.)

As a_ toy_; one he couldn't break at all because she was a force of nature to be reckoned with. (He saw her, a 13-year old, break a man's _jaw_ with his own _bone; the one that wasn't even meant for her_.)

She's not meant to be a plaything.

She's too strong for that.

Too _amazing_ for that.

Too _Sumiko_ for that.

She was too much of a_ person._

_And he, himself was the farthest thing from a person.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This made me almost tear up. Jesus fuck, why do I do this to myself-? ;w;
> 
> Also note: Gaara's mindscape is not the same as the subconscious he shares with Shukaku. Think of it like this; 
> 
> If the subconscious is the "meeting room" for the both of them, Gaara's mindscape is the door/hallway. So Shukaku can enter/influence the surroundings if it/he so chooses, but Gaara can also push him out, depending on his mental state at the time.


	3. ... ???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he's the monster, who is she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For maximum effect: play the following song on loop while reading. 
> 
> "Childhood Memories"/Gaara's Childhood Theme:  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EyAK6lywxvk

Gaara's eyes opened slowly and painfully; his blackened lids were heavy, nearly equal to the weight of his gourd. "My head... hurts.."

It took him a couple of minutes to remember where he was, but he figured it out with a quick glance at a tombstone.

_Tarou Senju. _

_Loving husband, outstanding father. Loyal ninja. _

_Rank: Chuunin. _

"....."

That's right... he was here with someone, wasn't he? He got lost in his head.

_He shut down._

Someone brought him back, somehow...

The someone was still here, wasn't she?

_That_ girl.

_'How annoying...'_ he thought. _'How many times do I have to be on the other end of this...?' _

He scowled, annoyed. He didn't need to saved. He didn't need to have this Sumiko person take up space in his head, nor did he need to have something held over him... 

Too much of this, and he'd become overly reliant on a subconscious level...

He already vowed to himself that he wouldn't rely on anything else but his own strength. He didn't need anyone.

He didn't and wouldn't even trust anyone.

_Never again._

And yet...

He hadn't moved.

He found himself in the same position he was when they first officially met; confused, vulnerable, and with his head on her shoulder because she was_ hugging _him again.

_The only difference was that nobody was crying this time. _

* * *

Sumiko didn't say anything-- in fact, during the chakra exchange (which already ended), she tried to think of what to possibly say to him.

Or rather, what _not _to say.

Nothing sounded right.

What she could have said, would have came off as soft, filler words and phrases used to make people feel better.

In essence, they would have been things she didn't completely believe in.

They would have been half-truths at best, outright lies at worst. 

Sumiko was _not_ that kind of person.

She didn't believe in bullshitting, didn't believe in saying things _just to say them_.

So she stayed quiet, and hugged him instead.

Until she felt like she hugged him enough or if he wanted to end it himself.

_She could tell he needed it._

* * *

_ Gaara's nose twitched, as did his fingers and arms. _

_His eyes furrowed, strain painted on his face as clear as Konoha's waters.  
_

_It was all unnatural-looking. _

_It looked like he was fighting himself, fighting the demon maybe, Sumiko assumed. _

_How else could his inhuman movements make any semblance of sense? It made her a bit sad, though. _

_Did this mean Gaara couldn't sleep?_

_ If the pained expression on his face was any indication, Sumiko would have to assume the answer was "yes." _

_But why? What would happen if he were to sleep? Would Shukaku take over? Is that why he was on top of the Demon's head back in the forest....? _

_Was he about to give Shukaku complete control...? _

_If so, are the heavy black lines around his eyes a case of extreme insomnia? Or was it indicative of his status as a Vessel?  
_

_Was it both...?_

_She knew she shouldn't be overthinking this. She had no reason to, he was just a random boy. _

_A boy who she probably should be scared of. _

_But..._

_She'd be lying if she said she didn't see some of herself in him. _

_His cruelty was extreme, but she saw pieces of herself in it. _

_His disregard for other people's safety and lives were also extreme, but was she any better? She's done that by just existing.. _

_All of the ugly parts of him he openly showed, existed in her too._

_Maybe that's why she was able to approach him so casually; because she related to him, Sand Spirit aside. _

_With her strength, having to constantly keep herself in check, she couldn't_ _be completely human herself. _

_She had to admit that there were days where she longed to let go, and be free.  
_

_Sometimes, she dreamt about it. _

_But she couldn't make those dreams reality. _

_She couldn't, because that wouldn't make her a human._

_So she_ _might as well have been called a monster or a demon too. _

_The closest she's gotten to be being called one of the two was an 'abnormality'. _

_An abnormality, isolated from the outside world for a time, only focusing on herself. _

_Focusing on becoming stronger so she wouldn't be a burden to anyone else...._

_An abnormality, with no path for herself, no legacy of her own outside of being known as that "super-strong freak"._

_"That girl the Council took pity on",_

_"That girl who was a danger to others",_

_"That little girl who'd never be a ninja with that unruly power of hers"..._

_So to Sumiko, it was unexpected but welcomed that she _ _found solace in the first kid she reached out to. _

_It was just a cruel twist of fate he wasn't human either. _

* * *

Gaara noticed the warmth that enveloped him. When...?

_'....this isn't mine...'_

It wasn't.

It was Sumiko's.

This was _hers._

_She was warm._

No, her _chakra_ was warm, similar to the climate of Konoha.

Underneath it though, seemed to hold a raging fire not unlike that of Suna's sandstorms.

He was comfortable here.

_Too_ comfortable.

He had to stop this _now_.  
  
"What the hell are you doing...?" Although said in a quiet tone, his voice was still rough; almost as if his voice box had been dragged against jagged rocks and thrown back into his body haphazardly. He placed his hands on her arms, and his fingers wrapped around her wrists as he pried her off.

Unlike last time, she did not fight him.

She let him go.

Sumiko sat back on her heels, and watched him. "I panicked. You looked like you were in pain, so I did the first thing that came to mind."

Gaara stared at her for a long while. _'What kind of answer is that? ....'_

He stared, stared, and stared _again_. Then, his face twisted into something unpleasant. He scowled and his eyes tightened. "Who the hell told you to do _anything_ for me? Who told you I needed pity or your help?" All of his body language read as _irritation_, as he moved away from her.

"Nobody."

_'Of course I didn't reach him... I bet he most likely came back on his own.'_

"No one did." She answered honestly.

The distance, paired with the glare he gave her, screamed caution.

_Suspicion._

_'He probably thinks I'm lying...' _

Though, to be honest, if she was him, she wouldn't be that easily convinced either. So, she elaborated further,

"I know it's not what you want to hear, but it's the truth. I have nothing to hide. ...Since I'm here, I'll be nothing but completely honest: I don't know why I saved you those times. No... I _do_ know. I _wanted_ to. I didn't _have_ to. But I simply wanted to. I can't take those interactions back, and I don't want to. The reason is because in those moments, I could tell you needed someone. I may not know you too well, but your eyes... they tell so much. I can read body language, feel and 'read' chakra. I could tell you were holding in a lot of hatred, anger and loneliness. It's... very similar to what I was like a few years ago. Actually... I still have some of those traits inside me, so looking at you is almost like a looking into a mirror. It's ..._ jarring_."

"So you're using me to make yourself feel better?"

"No. At least... not now. At first, I think I was. It was selfish, I know-- but like I said... I couldn't help myself. I saw pieces of myself in you. The thing about my skill is... I can't really turn it off. I can numb it down to where it's not distracting, but I can't just ignore it. It would bother and eat at me... so I acted on it. Hence our interaction in the forest."

"So what changed....?"

"....when you started crying. Your chakra was scattered. All over the place. I had to wrap a second and third coat of my own around myself because you were so cold. You went on like that for a while. I've never seen someone so ... _broken_. I knew you were messed up from your fights in the Exam, but when I was holding you, I really believed it. Seeing something like that with your own eyes... you can't help but to wonder 'what happened'?, 'who's responsible for you being like that..?, who hurt him?'. Stuff like that. I sympathized when I saw you... and stopped seeing me." 

"Don't you mean pity? Don't you dare--"

"No. Not pity, Gaara. Sympathy's different. Trust me, I wouldn't want to be pitied either. All it means, is that I can somewhat understand why you're the way you are... even if our circumstances are different. I know I don't have the right to -- and you _can_ reject me, that's fine -- but... if you're okay with it, I'd like to know more about you, so that I can be compassionate. I want to make you feel better. Not to make _myself_ better. But because I don't think you're too much of a terrible person. I know everyone is scared of you, and wouldn't want to be close to you, I get it. I do. I know I should be.. but I'm not one of those people. I actually do want to get to know you properly....if you'll allow me. So that's if you want to. If not, that's fine. Tell me and I'll leave you alone. Forever."

Gaara's confused face came back._ 'Make me feel better....? Get to know me....? But why...?' _"....." The top half of his face darkened over. 

"You don't have to say anything. ....In fact, I'll do it for you." Sumiko grunted and stood up. She dusted off the dirt from her boot-covered knees. "If you want me to leave you alone, don't say anything. I'll go home right now, and pretend as if I never met you. But if you don't... then, just stop me. You can hold a hand up. Shake your head. And if you _do_ want to say something, 'wait!' or 'stop' is fine."

He chewed on the inside of his mouth. Nothing about his body posture changed. "........"

_'I can't read him right now. His chakra's starting to scatter again. I wonder what he's thinking about... From the way his face muscles are, all I can guess is that he's tense. Probably being mean to himself too, like I once was... Is that because of me? Was I too blunt? I hope not... Ugh, I'm doing overthinking again. Stop that. That helps nothing... In any case, I suppose it's better this way..._ _ I guess I'm just not meant to have friends, heh. After all... I've done pretty decent by myself these past few years, right? ... It's not like I need anyone. I don't. I don't want anyone.... I can't have anyone. I **shouldn't. **I'd probably just hurt him eventually....' _

What felt like five or so minutes passed-- and yet, he still said nothing.

Well.

Guess she knew his answer...

"Goodnight. It was nice knowing you, however short it was." She bowed her head in his direction momentarily, and moved away from the spot she stood in. She bit on her lower lip as she eventually approached him. When she got to his side, she paused for a second, but only to glance at him-- to see if anything changed. 

His right hand was clenched into a fist. It shook.

He fidgeted.

Sumiko frowned. He looked like he was fighting himself again. But... that wasn't an answer. It was just him fidgeting. She still couldn't read him...

Her frown deepened and she continued to walk past him.

"Stop being nice to me."

She stopped again, but didn't turn back to look at him.

_Sumiko prided herself on having a hard heart, and a logical mind._

But damn if that didn't make hers ache.

She ignored it.

"I have no reason to be rude to you," she replied calmly.

_Who the hell was she to come in like a metaphorical samurai in reinforced armor, charging with a sword in hand?_

_She didn't even know him._

"You have no reason.... no _right_ to be kind either." He scowled again. His nails would have dug into the palms of his skin and cut it if it wasn't for the damned automatic sand. "Just who the hell do you think you are?!" 

_She shouldn't have saved him, much less try to 'befriend' such a monster. Or find him interesting._

_Yet, here she was, doing that very thing. Failing, as well.  
_

"I don't think I'm better than you if that's what you're thinking. I'm nice because you haven't actually given me a reason not to be. That's all."

Gaara wasn't hearing her.

_"....." One of his fingers twitched, almost unnaturally. Then another.  
_

"Liar," he spat. "You're a liar just like everyone else. It's pity, isn't it? You're looking down on me. You have to be. Do you think I'm an idiot? Do you think I'm so weak that you have to protect me all the time? Who told you to do that for me?"

_Sunagakure was a very individualist Shinobi Nation._

_So why in the ever loving fuck did he get that urge to protect her back then? And why was it bothering him so much that she returned the favor?  
_

The half-Senju felt his chakra flare again. She shivered and instinctively rubbed her arms with her hands to keep herself warm. He was definitely angry-- more than she thought. How foolish of her to think he'd appreciate her acts of kindness. He wasn't obligated to. So of course someone like him wouldn't. _'You were wrong, Gaara. I am stupid. An idiot. I'm an idiot who needs to stay alone. I see that now. Stupid, stupid, stupid...! You don't need friends...'_

Her eyes were cast towards the ground. _'Keep walking dumb ass.'_

"...I'm sorry. My intention wasn't to undermine you."

She was still calm, despite feeling the thick air surrounding him. She could almost taste it. Sumiko swallowed a lump in her throat. She realized she was probably making things worse for him. He had every right to feel offended. He had every right to not be thankful. But...

"Nothing I said to you was a lie. I don't like liars myself. I'm not looking down on you-- I never have. I don't know who the hell is, but I'm not one of those people. I don't even know you enough to lie, if I were to, anyway." She squared her shoulders and tightened her grip on her biceps. "I don't think of you as an idiot either. You do lose the ability to think rationally when you're high on bloodlust though. But that's not you being stupid -- you're just in an altered state of mind, like if you were to take drugs or coffee. I never thought of you as an idiot. I don't think you're weak and defenseless either. If that was the case, I would have never approached you in the forest. I don't waste my time with weaklings. They have no place in this world for me. So, no. You're wrong on all of those statements. If you really want to know what I think of when you come to mind, it's ally. Just that."

"Keh." He scoffed.

_What kind of power did she hold?_

_Because he sure as hell didn't know... _ _And he wanted to-- more than he should.  
_

"I didn't ask for you to think of me that way, either."

"I know you didn't."

"Then why me? Why nobody else? Why is it just me?"

"....." She wrapped herself in a second and third coat of chakra again. With each question, his chakra felt more and more scattered. The air grew thicker, and it was almost hard to breathe-- she was damn near suffocating. Sumiko closed her eyes, and tried to block it out. She already answered this question. There was no need for her to repeat herself.

"Why the hell aren't you nice to anyone else? Why is it just me? Why does it have to be_ just_ me?!"

"....."

_"Why?"_

She tried to open her mouth but then closed it._ 'No... He's right. It's better this way. Go home... you have a family to get to, Sumiko. Just... go home. Forget about him. He's strong... He'll be okay. He doesn't need you... Nobody needs you. You only have yourself. That's all you'll have until you die.'_

And yet...  
  
She wouldn't move.

_Why wouldn't she move...?  
_

* * *

For the second time in Sumiko's life, Opposites Clashed.

She was calm, patient -- willing to work things out if there was a chance.

Gaara, as she was reminded once more, was a deeply unstable individual-- brash, angry, and hostile. He wasn't open unless he wanted to be.

She was more or less well-put together, she had to be, because she had no choice in how she had to present herself.

Gaara _pretended _to be well-put together, because he _did_ have a choice in how he wanted to present himself. (If he chose to care).

Sumiko had been through her own hardships, and rejected bonds because they've done nothing but increase the amount of suffering lives by _association_.

Gaara had also been through his own, but he had no concept of bonds, so not only did he reject them, he couldn't _fathom _them. He shouldered his own burdens on his own because it was_ the world vs him._

She only had herself to rely on because that's how things turned out for her. She had no choice.

He had nobody to rely on either, but that was_ his_ choice.

Just like he chose not to rely on her now.

_'Go home, stupid...' _

* * *

She wasn't responding.

Did she leave?

No, he felt her chakra. She was still there.

Waiting.

Waiting for him to say something. "....."

But there was nothing else to say.

Nothing at all that would have been appropriate or satisfactory to either him or her.

He had no reason to say anything, though.

He had no reason to care.

_Did_ he care about her?

No.

Yes.

Kind of?

No, no he didn't.

But he _liked_ her. So that means he cares at least a little, right?

A little _something? _

No.

No, no, no, it's not possible.

He can't "care" for anyone.

He's wired not to, and he knew it.

Gaara was self-aware.

Then what the hell was it?

_'Why do I care?' _He asked himself._ 'Why am I interested in learning more about her? What the hell? Why? For what?'_

Was it because she wasn't scared of him? That would be a valid reason.

It was rare to come across someone who could actually stare him in his soulless eyes... _'No, you idiot. It's not that. When you tried to kill Uchiha in the forest, that pink-haired useless piece of shit was there.'_

Then again, it wasn't the same, now that he thought about it.

That was _in the moment._

Sumiko has _consistently_ shown no fear.

_'Again, why the hell do I care? So what...? So what if she wants to understand me? I don't have to give her that.. I don't owe anyone anything. Much less friendship. ...I hate that word. It's so stupid-sounding. Juvenile. Immature. Who in their right mind would want to ally themselves with someone like me? A demon nonetheless. Keh. _ _I've done well for myself for the past few years being on my own. I've always been alone. I've always had nobody but myself. I don't need anyone. _ _I don't want anyone. _ _**I can't have anyone.** _ _I'd ruin them, like I ruin everything else; with the sole purpose of my own entertainment. I'd get bored and throw them away and move on with my life. It's how I work. I only take interest in people where there's something in it for me. I'm selfish. Everything I touch, gets crushed and dies. I want to kill things. I like killing things. I do it for myself because it's how I know I'm alive. It validates me. And it's the closest thing I have to being 'happy'. It's all I have.... There's nobody out there like me, because I'm the **only** me. She's not an idiot... she has to know that. I don't really hide my dislike for humanity... so why...? Why, even knowing all of that, would she want to be associated with me...? My reputation is there for a reason. I'm a monster. I don't have to be reminded by anyone else. I remind myself when I can't sleep at night. I remind myself when I look in a mirror. I have no equal. There's just me. _

_I have little to no empathy for others. _

_I don't have a moral code. _

_I have no conscience. _

_I can't care about anything, even if I try. So I don't. That's why I can't do facial expressions. _

_Compassion escapes me. _

_Just reining in my bloodlust is a lot. Nobody has any idea how much mental strain I'm constantly under. Nobody has any idea that this is my default. I can't be anything else. I can't be a proper ally. I can't be a person. I can't be a human. I can't do many things others can, so easily. __The only thing I can be, am, and will forever be, is a monster. _ _A monster who destroys everything in its path. I'm a tool. That's all I am. I can't be assigned any other meaning, not unless I give myself one. But I don't care to. So this is all that I am, and will be until I get bored enough to change it. And even then... this is all... all I can be. Just myself. A 'thing' that gets by on the suffering of others. She has to know that, she's smart... and yet...'  
_

* * *

_"A living person doesn't belong in a mass graveyard unless they plan on dying." _

Sumiko knew what he meant now.

_Only the dead belong with the dead.  
_

In other words, he was one of _them_\-- dead inside, perhaps. Funny how that tangent popped out of nowhere.

But it made sense.

Why else would he say that?

It explained the lack of emotion in his voice.

It also explained the detached look in his eyes. Why they looked so empty. Why his gaze was so intimidating, menacing to others. It was the equivalent of the undead staring at the living. His massive chakra was just the icing on the cake that made Gaara an unsettling person to be around. And if it wasn't that, his antisocial behavior pushed others away. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

She had no chance in hell to begin with.

She knew that now.

That's why she started walking again-- because it was useless. There was no point of trying to escape what seemed like fate. A cruel, lonely fate that dictated she embark on her journey without distraction. She needed to be strong. She didn't need to be boggled down by another person's struggles. She had her own. So what if she was friendless now? She was just thirteen. She could make them later, if she decided she wanted to.

Even if she really, _really_, wanted one now.

She would forget about it.

Forget about Gaara of the Sand.

Forget about the monster she saved twice. 

Forget about the boy who was broken beyond repair.

Forget, forget, forget.

He's just a boy.

He's just--

_"Stop." _

She froze and her eyes widened in surprise.

There was the sound of shifting dirt, and someone getting up. The weight of his chakra lessened and lessened. It didn't feel scattered anymore-- the air loosened up. She was tempted to turn around. Instead, she paused entirely and turned her head. He stood with his back turned to her. He hadn't moved from the spot where she hugged him but he stood. His head was down so she assumed he was looking at the ground. He was still. Even his voice sounded calmer._  
_

"...I have a question."

"...What is it?"

"Why aren't you scared of me?"

She blinked, taken aback by it. "I... Didn't I this answer this already, technically?"

"No, you didn't. You only stated why you noticed me. That's not what I'm asking now. I just want to know why you're able to ... --why you even want to bother with me. I recognize that I don't make it easy for others to get to know me. There's a reason for that. And yet, you tried. You looked me in the face and already determined you wanted to be there for me. I've done nothing for you.. but get in your way. I don't see what I add to your life. So why? What do you gain from that? If I were to accept your earlier request... what would you even gain from knowing me? Why aren't you scared? I could turn on you... easily, too."

"Ah. I get what you mean..." She exhaled out from her nostrils. "Then... I'll tell you. I want to get to know you, just because. I know you're a monster. I know that you have your own problems. I honestly had no ulterior motive other than what I already admitted to you. I saw myself... and wanted to save myself. To see if I had the right to call myself 'human'. I don't know how to explain it... but when I saw your face contorted in pain, all I could see at first was mine. Because I had that same face once upon a time. A similar one, rather. I used to be sick too. Not mentally, but physically. And when you cried in my arms, like I said before-- I could feel how broken you were. I started wondering about you and what you've been through... that's why I cried with you. My tears were for the both of us. I don't actually have a reason for wanting to befriend you now that I think about it. I just want to, because ... I think you're worthy of my time. No ulterior or secret motive. I noticed that you're at your ..._.'happiest'_ for lack of better word-- when you're killing someone. That's for certain. You genuinely enjoy what you do, and you don't apologize for it. I'm not in a position to say "I condone" or "I don't condone", but you're at your best when you're allowed to do just that. You're also at your more vulnerable, because of what I said before. Hence why I took that bone for you. To snap you out of it.

"Regardless, the freedom you have in being yourself... is something I'm envious of. I want that. I wish I had that... but I don't. Because of my upbringing, I have to follow certain codes of conduct. Carry myself this and that way. It's so fucking frustrating. I sometimes feel more like a tool than a girl. I hate it. I know it's my job as a ninja. I know the world isn't fair and that this is what I signed up for.. but... I- I just wish I was more free to be... myself. But I can't do that because it's socially unacceptable. I can't do what I want. I know it sounds like I'm whining about something small, but I'm not. I just... don't know how to express it other than 'I wish I didn't have to hold back so much all the time.' I wish I could just cut loose and not give a damn about it. But no, I have to have a moral code to follow. I'd pretty much be in the same boat as you as I did what I really wanted to do..." She shook her head. "But that's neither here or there. As for you being in my way.... Like I said, you lose the ability to think rationally when you're high on bloodlust. You weren't too much of a burden. Don't beat yourself up.

As for the whole 'turning on me' thing, yeah, I thought about that too. It was actually something that didn't come to mind until after the battle. If you wanted to turn on me, you could have. We were in a forest you decimated with your sand. There were no witnesses. You could have killed me then. Hell, if you wanted to do a heel-face turn, you could have buried me with Kimimaro. Or-- during your rampage, you could have killed us both separately or together. Yet, you didn't. Now that I think about it... even through that, you were particular to move your sand _around_ me... you focused on him, and only him. So again, I thought about it. I know it's a possibility. I can't say that I don't care about it-- but I _can_ say that the chances of you actually betraying me are lower than you think. Because you had multiple chances to do so, and didn't take them. I'm not worried about you turning on me. I'm a big girl and I can defend myself. If it does come to that, then I'll come at you with everything I have. You'll have a long, hard and bloody fight on your hands... if you're going all out too.

"....And finally, the reason why I'm not scared of you. The reason is because I don't fear death. I was sick from the day I was born to the age of nine. During that time, I've had a near death experience. I was four. I was never supposed to live past the age of five."

She hated talking about it.

She hated _thinking_ about it.

To think she was so different from then...

She bit her lower lip and sucked in air through her teeth.

"There's nothing in this world more scary than dying when you know you aren't supposed to."

* * *

_Two year-old Sumiko was bedridden. _

_Sweat rolled down in buckets from her forehead to her chin. _

_She couldn't breathe, she was too hot. This thick blanket was making her too warm. _

_She couldn't see, because her stupid hair was in the way, and if it wasn't that, it was this wet rag she hated sitting over them. She hated it. _

_She hated this. _

_She hated the arguing. _

_She'd suffer in the room she shared with her mother and father while they argued outside. _

_They were so loud.  
_

_There was her father's frustrated table flip. _

_And there was her mother's punching a hole in the wall. _

_They'd go back and forth when they thought Sumiko was sleeping. _

_But she never slept on those nights. _

_It was often hard when she could hear them yelling at each other, blaming the other for not being able to find a way to make Sumiko feel better. _

_Blaming themselves for something that wasn't either of their faults.  
_

_Something was wrong with her since the day she was born, she didn't know what it was exactly-- both parents refused to tell her. _

_They couldn't hide it forever, but they tried. _

_They tried and failed. _

_She was their daughter anyway. _

_She was bound to figure it out. _

_\------_

_So many different drugs, but nothing really worked. _

_Her fever showed no signs of stopping.  
_

_Her body was in constant pain. She started coughing up blood. _

_She was four. _

_Two years of being confined to a bed ate at her hope and dreams. _

_And her back, because dear Amaterasu, it hurt from inactivity. _

_Her body felt heavy._

_Her mother and father were smart enough to not argue where Sumiko could hear-- they stopped arguing in the house. Now they tucked her into bed and went outside to yell at each other. _

_She found this out when she woke up one night to a nightmare and didn't find her parents in the house, but outside. Her father looked tired, and stressed. It didn't fit him. Yasuke Sanada was a tall man with a brown complexion, and Samurai-locs in a high ponytail. He was athletic; healthy, unlike her. He was able-bodied, unlike her. But the bags under his eyes and the reddened look in them aged him, made him look older. _

_"....Her body's rejecting it again..." _

_"Maybe we're not trying hard enough..." _

_"Yumiko..." _

_"What if there's something else we don't know about...?" _

_"I don't know, I don't think..." _

_"Sunshine, what are you doing?!" _

_Sumiko turned around to see her father staring at her. Several emotions crossed his face; sad eyes with a frown, widened eyes of surprise, then a tense body with a worried open mouth. _

_"Sumiko, no, you're not supposed to-" _

_The world spun, and she fell. She didn't know why, but it hurt. It hurt so much that she couldn't even cry, she didn't have the strength to. She panted heavily and held her chest. "It.. it hurts.." _

_Her vision was blurry and her hearing was in and out._

_She didn't even feel her father scoop her up off the ground. _

_Or the cut she sustained from hitting her head on a tiny, sharp rock._

_"....hospital..." _

_"Oh my god, why did..."_

_"We have to go..." _

_When she woke up next, she was under bright lights, surrounded by several strange looking people in white coats and rubber gloves. There was so much white. White was a pure color, wasn't it? But it wasn't for her. It was an annoying color. _

_A suffocating color. _

_Too many bright lights were almost white._

_She hated what she would come to call 'medical white'. _

_She still couldn't breathe. _

_"....stay with me..." _

_Everything hurt. _

_"Don't move, okay?" _

_She couldn't move anyway. _

_"...don't go to sleep, we need you here.." _

_But she was so tired. _

_A tear fell down her face. _

_"I don't want to hurt anymore," she said. "This is too hard." _

_"...you have to try..."_

_"Just hold on, okay...?" _

_"No, I can't.." _

_"Yes you can! We.. in you.." _

_She tried her best though. There was something applied to her face, over her nose. She couldn't see it. Her eyes were closed so all she saw was black. _

_Pitch black. _

_She was so weak. _

_Why did she have to be so weak?_

* * *

Sumiko's eyes were harder.

Darker.

It was like she was talking about someone else, and not herself.

Unlike Gaara she didn't have automatic sand or anything to protect her, so when she clenched her hands into fists, it hurt. Her fingers scratched at her palms. It wasn't hard enough to cut into her flesh, but she felt like her bones would pop out of her _skin _if she clenched any tighter.

"I was in and out of the hospital. Anything they gave me didn't work. My body rejected it. They thought it was a Chakra Virus, because of the constant fever I had. The fever comes from the inability to mould chakra, so the entire body overheats as a result. But I had other symptoms. Being short of breath, which led to lack of oxygen to my lungs. And thus, lack of oxygen to my brain. Which was why I was also coughing up blood. And lack of exercise because of my sickness caused me to have muscle weakness... and so on. My body was essentially working overtime to keep me alive. Just barely."

* * *

_ Sumiko's eyes were barely open. _

_She could hear just fine, but her head hurt. _

_The oxygen face mask made it easier to breathe. _

_At least there wasn't a rag on her head. _

_Or a too thick blanket. _

_She saw her mother first, this time. _

_Yumiko Senju was a woman also of brown complexion. Her pupils were red, and her big, curly hair was bright blonde. _ _Her mom looked like the sun itself._

_ She was always easy to recognize. _

_Like her father, she was able-bodied and healthy. Not sick. _

_Her mom was pretty all the time._

_Except for when she was crying. _

_Her mom looked the absolute worst. She almost didn't recognize her.  
_

_"...we have to sadly leave you. They're kicking everyone out."_

_Drip, drop. _

_Tears fell onto Sumiko's blank face. "...."_

_"It's just for the night. I-I know it might be scary, but we'll be back in the morning, I promise. As soon as it opens again." _

_"....Am I gonna die?" _

_"N-no! Don't you dare say that!" She hugged her tighter. _

_"Then what's wrong with me? Why won't I get better?" _

_"You will, sunshine, I promise-"_

_"When?"_

_"I-I don't know-" _

_"You're not sure...? So you don't know...? Why are you lying, momma?"_

_"I-"  
_

_"Lady Senju, the hospital is closing." _

_Yumiko frowned and looked up at the nurse. "I'm not ready to go, please just five more minutes-" _

_"I'm sorry but-" _

_"Let me talk to my sick daughter in peace!" She yelled. "It's the least I can do for her! It's my fault she's in here anyway!"_

_She went back and forth with the nurse, until she was manhandled out with five people. _

_She wondered what her mother meant by that, as she watched the angry, crying woman send at least three of them through two different walls. _

_She remembered her dad trying to calm her down... but it didn't work. _

_Without meaning to, she read her mother's body language. _

_It screamed 'guilty'. _

_'Pain.'_

_'Hiding.' _

_But why...?_

_Of course, the next day when her parents came back, she denied saying anything. _

_ But it clicked to her, the more she thought about it. _

_So Sumiko was able to piece things together._

_She was their daughter after all. _

* * *

"My Senju half was killing me." She held up her bruised hands, and finally unclenched them. She saw the imprints of her fingernails. "The immense chakra that comes with that side of the family was too much for my body to handle. That's why the doctors thought it was a Virus. Nope... just shitty luck in the genetic department. When you find out that you most likely won't live to your next birthday before ever achieving anything, you cry alot. You cry and feel so helpless. Useless. _Weak._ I felt death coming. It was cold. I was scared, and nothing my parents said helped. It wasn't until I told them I _dreamt_ about death, that they probably felt bad for keeping me in the dark for so long. They thought I was gonna die too. Never said it, but I could see it on their faces. I could tell with their bodies. They were mentally preparing to say goodbye. So then, they came clean and told me everything. I was so mad at them for lying to me, to my face.

"I'm older and I understand why they did what they did. But I can't stand liars! Especially with something important like that...! It was frustrating as hell. I can't _stand_ people who lie to themselves... and to those around them.

"When you're a kid, you're told to listen to adults because they all know what they're doing. That they're so knowledgeable. But I realized that too, was a lie. Some adults have _no idea_ what the hell they're doing. They're winging it and praying something works. So... after thinking about it some more, I came to the conclusion that relying on my parents, doctors, and medicine would just bring me more pain. I stopped looking to them. I closed myself up. Taught myself to walk around in my hospital room when everyone was gone. I taught myself to walk through the pain. If I got too tired, I'd force myself awake. I'd force myself to breathe even when my body didn't want to. I forced myself to imagine my chakra points opening. Everything hurt, and it felt like every part of me was gonna collapse at any minute. But I did it, little by little. Every night, and every day after my parents visited me or when nobody was looking. I was tired of being looked at like I was sick. I was tired of being treated like I was a fragile little thing. I was so mad, and frustrated that I'd say mean things to myself.

"And then... my birthday came. I was five, and still breathing. Doctors and parents were surprised... said that they didn't expect me to find a way around it. I got what they meant, but it felt insulting. They really didn't have any faith in me. They really thought I'd just drop dead. ...They did some more tests on me. Turns out the points along my chakra network were jammed shut before. So deeply it wasn't registering at all. So before I forced them open, they had nowhere else to go. It built up and up until it started killing me. A life-threatening birth defect, can you believe it? Rare, too. _And I beat it by myself._"

* * *

_A kid went flying. _

_She hit the wall and there was a sickening snap. _

_Her neck was broken and her head lolled lifelessly to the side. _

_She was dead instantly. _

_The toll was nine, now. _

_Nine kids._

_The other eight were accidents. _

_The ninth was not. _

_She was asking for it, in Sumiko's opinion. _

_The would-be bully told her that the ninja world would be "better off" if she killed herself. _

_Sumiko was nine, no longer plagued by the sickness that tried to claim her life. _

_Sumiko was nine, now plagued with strength regulation problems. _

_Because if it wasn't one fucking issue, it was another. _

_Why did she have to be this way? _

_Why did she have to be abnormal? _

_Why could she never get a break? _

_Why was everyone looking at her like that? _

_Why were they staring?_

_Didn't they know she'd snap if they kept going? _

_Why are they surprised? This is their fault! _

_Why were they running at her, screaming at her? _

_Why were they trying to hurt her? _

_Why was everyone so angry at her? _

_Why, why, why, why, why, wh--- _

_\------_

_"Your daughter has become... unruly, and she's proven time and time again to not be able to control her strength. In the most recent incidents, she's killed nine and injured twenty. She's creating an unsafe environment for everyone else, and it's to the point where too many people are complaining. Parents have written letters and are threatening to pull their kids out. I know how much this means to you, so I'm sorry... but your daughter is expelled from the Academy. She can't become a ninja now. Not with this on her permanent record." _

_Sumiko sat outside, swinging her legs back and forth. _

_She knew she was in trouble. _

_She knew she should have felt bad. _

_ She honestly didn't mean to hurt the other kids... _

_But she wasn't going to let herself be a punching bag. _

_She'd rather kill herself indeed than be someone's punching bag. _

_She'd definitely rather die. _

_Was it really her fault that she ended up being so strong? _

_Or was it that the other kids were just too weak to stay alive? _

_Maybe that was it. _

_Maybe weak people just shouldn't live at all._

_After all, this world was unfair. _

_Only the strongest lived on. _

_Isn't that how it's always been?_

_Isn't that the way it should be..?_

* * *

"My parents didn't stop fighting for my right to become a ninja. So they wrote letters to the Council, I guess. Academy heads, if that's a thing? I actually don't know to whom. I didn't really ask." She shrugged. "I don't know what any of the letters said, or how _many_ they sent, but whoever read them apparently approved of me being homeschooled. Eventually. I was able to graduate, and get my headband. Getting to stay home was nice. I showed my parents how strong I _really_ was. I learned everything I could from them until they had nothing left to teach me. They were hard on me. My dad, especially. But I'm stronger now because of it, so I don't have the right to complain. Anyway, after that, I became self-taught again. Despite all of that... they were still determined to see me as nothing but their 'baby'. They'd hand-pick my missions. 'Supervise' my training sessions. Have my aunt and uncle basically babysit me, I could go on and on but I won't. The point was that I was _suffocating. _They said it was all out of love, but...

"I don't know. It was hard to see it as anything but a huge insult. It was hard to not take it personally. It was like I was still this fragile little thing that could drop dead to them at any moment. I hated their "just in case" reasons. It made me almost ... want to _hurt_ them. I was so mad all over again. It was so..._ frustrating!_ We'd argue and go back and forth about it, and it would always end up with them all but confirming what I thought. One day it got so bad that my mom accidentally yelled at me. I know she didn't mean to say it then, but it still hurt.

"She said I was the reason they kept having to relocate every so few months. Because... people wanted revenge for the kids they lost. The kids I hurt. Dad was mad at her for saying it. She was right, though. Some people tried to kidnap me. Burn our house down... all because of me. I was the cause of their suffering, and my mom held that in for four years. I almost had my name changed because of it. I didn't stop to think about how I affected them. Should I have? Probably. I didn't though. I'll tell you right now that I'm not really a moral compass of justice or anything... Nearly dying apparently does that.

"Anyway, it also took a while, but I got myself together-- resulting in control over my strength. I still have pent-up anger issues, and I'm working on it.... but it's hard. I have other emotional stuff too, because you know, that's_ 'what teenagers do'_, whatever that means. Since then though, everything's been quiet. I haven't been attacked since, nor have my parents have to worry about their or my safety. They relaxed again and we stopped moving houses. That's not to say that I don't get called the occasional 'freak', or that someone won't accuse my mother of doing some weird adult favor for the Council or whatever other shit they come up with, because it does happen. It just doesn't phase me too much. It's just annoying at this point. But that's it. It's probably more than you asked for, but at least you know some more about me." She dropped her arms. "Oh... and I know I said this before, but let me clarify-- I don't care what you think of me, but don't call me a liar."

She turned around fully, and she looked at him-- heavy brown eyes narrowed. "I'll punch your lights out next time. I don't care who you are."

All he did was shift the weight between his feet and scratch at his other arm. He was still silent. "............"

She'd never told anyone about herself, especially not in such a manner.

She didn't know what to expect, maybe laughter.

Maybe for him to look at her like she was fragile, or crazy too.

She'd understand if he did.

She even expected him to use her story against her somehow.

So she was confused when she heard footsteps. He turned around halfway and just stared at her.

It was a new face.

She didn't recognize it.

But... it was soft.

_If she could call it that._

* * *

_"...I don't care what you think of me but don't call me a liar. I'll punch your lights out next time. I don't care who you are."_

For some reason, it hit him harder than Yashamaru telling him to _"please, just die."_

She wasn't really scared of him.

She didn't care he was a demon.

She didn't care that he had very clear psychological issues.

"......" 

It was starting to become clear why Gaara wasn't wrapping his head around this so easily.

It wasn't because he cared.

It wasn't because he was interested in her. 

It wasn't because he liked her.

It wasn't even because she seemed to genuinely care about him (though "Mother's" _nothernothernother_ was starting to make sense...).

_'saveyourself'_

_'saveyourselffromyourselfyourselfyourselfyourself' _

_'fightfortheonewhogaveyoulifeagain'_

_'livefortheonewhogaveyouliveagain'_

_'forher'_

_'onlyher'_

_'cherishyourexistence_

_and_

_the one _

_that _

_u n d e r s t a n d s _

_you' _

Gaara left his other arm alone and grabbed his chest.

_'I get it now. I understand. Just her, right...?'_

yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes,

the 'voice' whispered in his head. It was not accompanied by howling wind, nor a bizarre image in his mindscape. It was actually a calm, quiet whisper for once.

In fact, he wasn't in his head.

He was in the real world, still there.

He felt Sumiko's chakra.

She hadn't left him yet.

....A part of him mentally kicked himself for being relieved at that.

He swallowed a lump in his throat.

He had to get himself together again...

He chose to get himself together.

For a girl, nonetheless.

"....."

So, he inhaled deeply and exhaled, moved both of his hands into his pockets and rolled his shoulders. He was calm, 'cool' and collected once more. There was no use in fighting it.

This girl ... whether he liked it or not, had a purpose in his life. He just didn't know what yet.

His face changed again-- the one he wore when he first came into the graveyard: Lips in a straight line, with detached and distant eyes... semi-present.

_"Fuck." _

* * *

If she drunk something, she would've spat it out.

For some reason, Gaara using that word caught her off guard. She heard him say 'hell' and 'damn it' a couple of times and once, respectively-- but not actual harsh language. There was a disconnect between him and the real severity of what he just said.

Then she quickly got over it when she remembered she didn't know him too well.

"...Is that good, like 'fuck yeah' or bad like 'ah, fuck'?"

"Yes."

".....Both?"

_"Yes."_

She blinked twice. "I'm-- yeah, sorry, I'm confused. _Why_ is it both?"

But he ignored her-- he wasn't listening again.

Because he realized something.

This was the first time Gaara's actually listened to someone else, other than Mother, other than Shukaku. 

He didn't like it but after tonight, he'd be able to leave with a deeper knowledge of his fr-- ...._ally_.

Ally, because he still hates the word "friend", and will for a long while.

Though comrade, another word he _just_ thought about, was fine. It was a safe word.

It's not too distant nor_ too close_.

_Just like him_.

_For now._

"......" He was going to say nothing, but then shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

It was... almost gentle, the way he said it.

Like reassurance.

Her face softened up some. _'To me or himself...?' _

To say Gaara was a monster would be the understatement of the century.

He wasn't a monster in the way that made Sumiko want to fear or hate him.

But in the way that watching him was interesting; like a horrible freak accident one couldn't look away from, no matter how grisly it got.

In short, Gaara was intriguing to her.

Was it his strength?

His monstrous, almost suffocating,_ cold_ chakra that commanded fear and attention?

The way he shouldered whatever silent burdens he endured by himself...?

The way he seemed to consider his words carefully before talking?

Or maybe the way his face had a language all of its own?

Maybe all of these, or none of these answers.

Actually...

For Sumiko, it was actually _all of the above. _

Gaara was right.

She wasn't stupid.

She knew what he was.

She accepted him.

She chose to.

It just took him time, but little did she know he accepted her too.

He knew her better now.

His thoughts surrounding her were clearer.

She was not some regular kunoichi.

She was not a plaything, or someone he could easily break. _He liked that._

She was strong.

Intelligent.

Honest.

Quick on her feet.

Fearless.

In short-- he was wrong in his assessment of her earlier.

She wasn't a person-- no, no way she could be. She was far from a human.

But she wasn't a monster.

Not a complete one. Instead, she was somewhere on the spectrum.

Maybe somewhere in between.

_'Or... she's blank. There's no doubt about it. She's definitely... a big question mark.'_

* * *

END OF NARUTO: PART 1.


End file.
